Want,,Vix story
by Go-ruden Kiba
Summary: Everyone has a want. It's diffrent from a need. No one is above wanting. Not even Tetheus, KaiStern, Alfeegi, or Ruwalk. And each want is diffrent. No two are the same.


K, so, Go and I colabed on this. We don't own DK, and I hope you enjoy it. Constructive criticism, fine. No flames please, unless they are tasteful. As burnt meat gets throw away, it isn't tasteful. So there's your answer. Thanks!

Want

Every one has wants. From the lowly ant, to the mighty wolf, everything and everyone has something that they desire. No one escapes it. Demons, dragons, elves, witches… but, each want is different from another. Though nuns and monks are meant to be devoid of want, it is still there. A nun may want to feel the warmth of a child that she knows she will never have. A monk wants nothing more than to feel the peace that prayer should bring, and though he tries, he feels nothing.

Everyone's wants may be the same in some aspects, but they are as though snowflakes. No two are the same, ever. Kai-Stern wishes for nothing more then to have a place he can call home. Sure, the castle provides for him, and he calls it home, but, he never feels like it is a part of him. There is always something missing. He isn't quite sure what though.

There is a fence, walls, a room with his aura all over it. A dog, good friends, better food, a nagging "wife" as he calls Alfeegi… what's missing? He can't put his finger on it. He sits, in his room, listening to what Rath has to say about what went on while he was gone. He sharpens his sword, laughing at the appropriate places, commenting, eating, the normal routine. Nothing is different then any other time he's come "home."

There's a knock at the door, which Rath bounds over to answer. It's Tetheus. He holds a summons, with Kai-stern's name on it. There are no words exchanged as Kai-Stern rises from the mattress, which he hardly ever sleeps in. He looks at Tetheus, takes the paper, and scans it. Nodding, he goes to pack. It's a silent command for Rath to walk over, hug him around the shoulders, and leave with the Black-Officer.

Kai-Stern walks down the path, the gate closing after him. After a minute or two, he turns back, and looks at the stone walls of his "home." He knows just what he wants now, and even though he's just realized it, the whole castle has known it for ages.

He wants a home. Not just a "home" but a real home, where he can come home every night, open the news paper, prop up his feet, and relax. Where he doesn't have to do his laundry, eat, clean up, pack, and leave just after he's come back. He wants a home that he can live in, that he doesn't have to leave. But he knows that he'll never get this. Kai-Stern knows that he will never be able to call any place "home" and actually mean it. He wants to have something be constant in his life, to know that something won't change if he blinks.

While he goes on a mission that he knows he won't be coming back from intact, all he can think about is how he wants to feel like he's at home.

Everyone has a basic need. Food, shelter, friends… everyone has a basic need. They are different from wants. We may _want_ to eat when we're hungry. It comes from a basic need to survive. There isn't a lot to survive. Eat, sleep, interact with people. Nothing more. People can survive on the bare essentials, we have for millions of years, and will continue to do so. No, a want is something we can't always get. Though we can't always get food, it is different from wanting a hat to cover your head.

But as much as we need human interaction, there is a difference between wanting it, and needing it. Alfeegi know this better than most. He only has a job because of said human interaction. He yells, screams, lectures, and imposes his way. This is human interaction. But not the kind he wants. No, everyone in the castle believes that he wants order, perfection, and respect. And though this is true, it is not what his soul wants. He knows that he wants so much more than what his façade shows. For that's all that it really is, a show, a fake, a mask. Nothing more, and all the less.

No, what he wants is love, true, faithful love. Not the kind that he has always had. There is family love, which is what he's never known from his mother, who was nothing but cold and far. There is friendly love, which he's known since coming to the castle. But never a love that he knew in his heart. How many times had he shared his bed, his heart, his time with someone, only to find them gone in the morning, or filled with pain from what they've done to him. How many mornings had he woken up with another scar on his back and another chunk out of his soul.

He sits on the edge of his bed while this week's lover lies to him, telling him that it was amazing, that he'd never forget it. That while he straps on his boot, tells the Officer that he was just going down to town to get some new clothes, and he'll be right back. Alfeegi pulls the sheet off the bed, wraps it around his thin form, and opens the door, no longer feeling anything… after all, how many times had this happened… he had lost count. The man would never come back, he'd never even give Alfeegi another thought. And he knew it too. The man pecked him on the cheek, and darts out the door, down the hall.

Alfeegi sighs, and closes the door, sliding the sheet down to see the new finger-nail marks on his side. They aren't deep, but they sure hit a nerve. They hurt like hell. But, his bed was taken for the night, and that's all that matters, right? Maybe. He slides onto the edge of his bed again, knowing that he's only being used. He's always being used. Always, even by the dragons…

He lays down, ready for some real sleep. He had been ordered to take this day off, so he was going too, though he'd love the distraction that word provided. That's all that work actually was anymore. If he buried himself in the mound of paper, he didn't have to think about the countless nights. And not thinking was bliss.

But now, he was alone with his thoughts. He hated being alone with his thoughts. He let the tears drip into the pillow, fingering the dagger that he had pulled out of his night-stand. He had been thinking too much lately. He wants someone that will stay with him. Someone that won't just use him for a quick lay and leave. He wanted someone that would love him.

The only problem was that he was Alfeegi. Everyone was afraid of him. Or would think that he would use them. That, and he wouldn't be caught dead asking, or telling someone what he truly wanted. No, he'd take that secret to the grave. Even if that grave came in the form of that dagger that was now carving through his arm. He had never gone deep enough, nor the right way to kill himself. But, after so many hundreds of years, he might just have skin that's too thin… or have forgotten that he couldn't go that deep. Perhaps, he could try going a little deeper today, or, from wrist to elbow, instead of side-to-side. Yes, he could see the vein pulsing, he could get away from all the false lovers and liars.

He starts to dig deeper, then his wish, his want, pushes through the despair, and he puts the dagger away. If he died, how would he ever meet Mr. Right? Dressing, he goes to his office despite the Dragon Lord's orders, and gets caught up on what he missed last night.

Sometimes, what we want is all that saves us from our selves. At times, our wants are all that keep us grounded to what and who we are really meant to be. They humble us, remind us that we are not as high as we would like to be. More than anything else, they show us that we are human, even if we are demon.

Red eyes aren't normal in this world. Blood is red, flags are red, hair is red. Not eyes. But his are, and he sees them in his mirror as he combs out his wet hair. His tan skin dulls on his face because of how red his eyes are. They stand out from the black that falls into them, and practically glow in the dark. Tetheus knows that they make him different, that people wonder about him, even if they don't know that he's a demon. Many respect him out of fear, and because they know his strength. He has been called stoic, has been given a position of power. Has been told to lighten up. But he can't. Because it's not what he wants.

He doesn't want respect, he already has that. He doesn't want power. It's not that he already has it, but, what would he do with it? He doesn't want to be Dragon, Demon suits him just fine, never hurt him… no, he wants new eyes. What a funny thing to want. To change one's self, because it's not normal. He knows that lemon of Kai-Stern isn't normal, or the gold/copper of Alfeegi isn't. The purple of Thatz sure isn't. And that makes red nothing different than anyone else in the castle. But purple is fine if you are human-turned-dragon. With brown hair, no one notices it anyway, and yellow is from the illness that almost killed Kai-Stern when he was a child. Red, though. How to explain red?

He puts the comb away, re-adjusts the towel around his waist, and reaches for his gloves. He wears them so that no one gets hurt from his claws. They are retracted under his nails, but their tips still poke through, and sometimes will nick the others. He remembers scratching Alfeegi the other day. So he wears the gloves. Pulling them on, he opens the bathroom door, and starts to sort through the clothes in his closet. Black uniform, blue uniform, or dress outfit? Black, it was a cold day.

Looking in the mirror again, he opens the medicine cabinet, and pulls out a box. Lira had given it to him after Tetheus had voiced his want. They were colored contacts. Brown ones. To make his eyes black. That was fine, black was passable. Right? He removes one glove (he didn't want to mess up the delicate disks) and tries to put in the eye-changer.

The world is very dark with the brown over his eyes. He can hardly see out. But he gets them in, and goes outside. Well, he doesn't need sun-glasses. He's getting some odd looks though, but no one says anything. Ruwalk actually complements him on them. Perhaps these aren't too bad. After a while, everyone will think they were natural, and forget that he had the strange red eyes. Yeah, this could work.

He goes inside for dinner, and finds that he can't see what he's eating. He also can't make his nightly rounds, it's too dark in brown. At ten, he gets to his room, and takes them off. The faint moon-light hurts his right eye, which is the only one that he managed to get out, and he sits with it covered for a little while, waiting to get adjusted. He looks in the mirror, and finds that black is not him. He fades with his black eye, that side of his face might as well be see-through. Like a spectra, surreal, and missing. His red side, though, stands out, is noticed, and is firm. He removes the last of the brown, red ruling over all.

He still wants to change his eye color, but, perhaps, this is not his night. He throws the little bits of plastic into the trash-can, which would be emptied in the morning, and goes back on his rounds. No, he still wants another eye color, but, for tonight, red will be just fine.

Sometimes, when we don't get what we want, we think we're not good enough. What makes others get what they want, and what keeps us from getting it? What makes them so special? When we know of our wants, and know we cannot obtain them, we change. When that fact dawns on us for the first time, there comes over us an evolution that people can tell what happens. Sometimes, it's blatantly obvious. Sometimes, it's subtle. But for some, the change, is that there is no change at all.

Ruwalk has only ever wanted one thing. To be the one that can give his life for king and country. He had a chance. Once, just before Rath was created, he had been torn in half. He had thrown himself in front of his king, his friend, and had been torn almost in two. He had almost died on that field. He had lost a lot of blood, his lungs had been ripped almost out of his chest, and it was only the miracle of the elves that had saved him. Another three seconds, and he would have gotten his want.

And it was noticeable. There was a change in Ruwalk. He became "funny." He started to be class clown, the jester, the joker. He never took anything serious. Everyone thought it was because he realized just how fleeting life is, and wanted to take every advantage there was. Alfeegi saw through that, though, and didn't by it for a second.

It became nature for him. To act like nothing was ever wrong. And, after a while, he forgot why he was acting that way. It didn't matter anymore. But, his want was still there. And it came to the fore again, not once, but twice. The first was finding Alfeegi in the hall, stabbed through, and bleeding to death. The longest and most painful death anyone could have. He found out why soon after he came back with Lira, only to find that Alfeegi's heart couldn't wait for him anymore, and that he was gone.

The second was when Kai-Stern died. That was the last straw. Two of his closest friends had gotten what Ruwalk had wanted. And he had missed both by mere moments. If Alfeegi had found Ruwalk before confronting Rath, Ruwalk might have been able to jump between them, and save his friend. Or if he had given Kai-Stern an extra hundred, he would have spent another day in town, and might have been spared the water that killed him.

Someone else got what Ruwalk wanted. And what was amazing, was that even though he didn't laugh or smile much, with the new responsibility of taking over Alfeegi's job and Lykoleon's, he still joked around, still acted laid back. Someone commented on that, and he ran to his room. Taking a long look at himself in the mirror, he found that they were right. Why? They had gotten his dream, so, why did he not change like he had last time?

Because he had changed, but, didn't change. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he came to accept that he would never get what he wanted. And even though he still wanted it, he had accepted it… he didn't have to change. Ruwalk learned a lot about himself, as he stood, looking at Alfeegi's and Kai-Stern's graves. He learned that change always occurred, but, not in a way that change happens. Change is not always visible, or noticeable. Sometimes, change is in what you want, and what you accept, not in how you act.

Everyone has a want. Some make it known; some don't know what they want. And some realize that what they want, is not what is going to happen. But it's there, and there's no escaping it. The only problem is; what will you do – how far will you go – to get what you want?


End file.
